A report written by slave 437353


The day that I remember the most from my early years with my Master, and the day that was the worst, was the day that I challenged HIS authority.

My Master had been going through a tough time, something that I was not being very sensitive to. HIS work situation was not going well at that time, and as a result HE was distracted and preoccupied. I was a young, thoughtless slave, and so of course thought everything was about me – that HIS lack of interest in using me was in some way a reflection on me. And I was upset.

One day, I started asking HIM about it in my usual respectful way, but eventually I got upset. I told HIM that I thought HE was not very serious about being a Master, and that HE did not “really own me” I told HIM that I could leave any time I wanted, and that HE was not in control of what I did. I worked outside the house, and I could easily walk away. Our friends would think we had broken up – a not uncommon occurrence in gay couples in their 20s in San Francisco.

I was surprised that HE did not respond – HE gave me a long look, and then walked out. I did not see HIM again until that evening.

At the time, we were living in a flat on Haight Street, about three blocks down from Buena Vista Park. Buena Vista was at that time a beautiful, wild, un-manicured park – there were paths, some asphalt but mostly dirt, and the trees and plants were pretty much left to their own devices. As a result, the park was also a big cruising park, and there were lots of men in the bushes. My Master had taken me there before, to have me service other men, occasionally to fuck me in the bushes on a beautiful night, but we had never done much else there.

On the night that I challenged HIM, HE came home and told me that we were going for a walk. HE told me it was warm out, and I didn’t need a jacket or even shoes. I noticed that HE had a backpack with HIM, but as HE usually carried one, I didn’t think much about it. We walked up the hill on Haight Street, then entered the park at Baker and walked up through the beautiful trees. Buena Vista sits on the side of a hill, and from the entrance at the bottom on Baker and Haight up to the top of the hill is quite a climb. It was just becoming dark, and the park was almost empty: the night cruisers had not yet arrived, and the late afternoon sex seekers had already left for their wives and lovers. The dog walkers had gone home as well, and we were pretty much alone. I didn’t know it then, but at night, the park again got busy – we had arrived at the change of shift.

As we reached the bottom of the steps that lead to the top of the park where, at that time, there was a parking area, HE stopped, and pointed down a side path. We walked down it until we reached an opening in the bushes. Just through this opening, a downed tree made a place to sit – the top of the trunk was worn smooth where thousands of pairs of tight fitting levis had rubbed against it.

My Master turned me around, looked me up and down, and then grabbed the collar of my shirt, and yanked on it. As I was pulled to my knees, I felt the fabric rip, and watched as HE tore the shirt off me. HE tossed it away and then pulled me to my feet, yanked open my jeans, pulled them down, and then ripped them in half. I of course was not wearing underwear, and was standing on the path completely naked. HE pointed at the log and said “Get on that log. Ass facing me.” I got on my knees, and HE came around in front of the log, and tied my wrists together, so my arm encircled a large branch. HE had chosen the spot perfectly: my ass was pointed up, my upper body bent downwards. I realized that, by pulling my head up, my face could be brought to crotch level. As I thought about what HE might have planned, HE stretched my legs apart, and tied my ankles to other parts of the downed tree. I was completely immobilized and exposed.

HE came around in front of me, and looked down at me. It was painful to try and crane my neck enough to see HIM, and the park was becoming dark, so it was difficult to see at all. Despite this, I could tell that HE was seething with rage, angrier than I had ever seen HIM. HE stood looking at me for a long time, and I became uncomfortable, cold yet sweaty with fear, nervous and anxious. Finally, HE spoke:

“Boy, today you did the worst thing you could ever do – you challenged my authority. I am going to teach you tonight why you should never do that again.”

He picked up a piece of my torn shit, opened HIS pants, and soak it with HIS piss. Then HE shoved the soaking wet rag in my mouth, gagging me with it, filling my mouth to gaping. I could taste HIS piss running down my throat and down my chin, but I could do nothing to stop either.

My Master walked around behind me, and without another word, began beating my ass with a wide leather strap. This was not play: I had not been beaten this hard in a very long time. It went on and on, the lashes loud in the quiet park, me gasping for breath and moaning in pain. Suddenly, HE stopped, and I heard HIM speaking to someone:

“You like that?” I didn’t’ hear the other person’s response, but then HE said, “This is my slave. You want to fuck it?” The other guy said something that I couldn’t hear, and I sensed my Master stepping back. I felt someone positioning himself behind me, and heard my Master say “Fuck it hard!”

The guy had a big dick, and he shoved it in me with one long hard stroke. I felt my ass convulsing, unprepared for this assault, but I had no way of showing displeasure or resisting. The fucking went on and on, and I felt the guy fuck me harder and harder as he got closer to cumming. Finally, I heard him moaning in pleasure as he pumped his cum into me.

He pulled out, and his place was taken immediately by another man. The second guy fucked me and shot his load too, and then a third. My ass was on fire: I could feel the welts from the beating, and the rough fucking made my hole feel raw.

As the third guy left, my Master stepped forward, and again started whipping my ass. Within a few minutes, HE stopped again, and another man took HIS place behind me. This guy first used the leather strap on my ass, and then fucked me as hard as he could. When he had cum, my Master again took up the strap and began beating me.

The night wore on, and more and more men came by. My Master took the rag out of my mouth so I could service them orally, and man after man shoved his hard cock down my throat. I swallowed cum, drank piss, got fucked and whipped. Through it all, my Master remained intent on making sure I was used at every moment. My chest and stomach were rubbed raw against the wood of the tree, and my knees, which pressed against the part of the tree that still had bark on it, were full of splinters. Cum dripped down my balls and ran down my legs. Occasionally, someone would pick up the remains of my clothes and wipe me off before the abuse continued.

I kept count of the guys who came in my ass, and as the night went on, the number approached, and then passed, 15 and then 20. Other men fucked me and used my mouth, and I had no idea how many men whipped me, pulled on my balls, and saw me in that position. I had no idea how many men recognized me from the neighborhood, and would later look at me in Safeway or on the street, and know how I had been used. I felt exposed and humiliated, and very very ashamed of what I was, and what I had done.

Later in the night, it became quiet, and my Master left. I later realized that HE had gone a short distance away to a bench and fallen asleep, but I remained where I was. Occasionally someone would stop by and fuck me or fuck my face, but much of the time I was alone, feeling the fog and shivering.

Illustration by Theo Blaze

After the 23rd man shot his cum in me, I was again alone and fell asleep. I have no idea how long I slept in that awkward position, but when I woke up, my Master was prodding my balls with HIS toe. I saw that the sky was lightening, and I could hear birds singing. It was becoming morning.

He untied me and told me to follow HIM. I did nothing to protect myself or hide the welts that covered my ass and back, nor to clean up the cum and piss that was on my ass, legs, chin and chest. I wordlessly stumbled behind HIM down the paths we had climbed earlier that evening, until we reached the stone stairs that lead to the corner of Baker and Haight. Here HE turned and looked at me:

“Boy, I have no desire to be arrested, so stay at least half a block behind me. Do not try to hide – just walk home. If you don’t get picked up, knock on the door when you get home”

I watched HIM walk down the steps and down Haight Street, and when I figured HE was about half a block down, I followed. The streets were mostly deserted, and I did not see any pedestrians. The cars and buses that passed on Haight Street did so sporadically, and though I know many people saw me that morning, I did nothing to hide from them. At the corner of Haight and Divisadero, the light was against me, and I calmly stood on the corner, shivering, naked, alone. Several passing cars beeped their horns, but no one stopped and thankfully, no cops passed by.

On arriving home, I knocked on the door, and after a minute or two, I was admitted. I was finally safe.

My Master went into the back parlor and sat down on an overstuffed chair, and I followed and knelt before HIM. Tears ran down my face as I finally felt HIM look into my eyes. HE looked at me for several minutes, as I became more unglued, and then HE said “You doubted me, boy.”

I started sobbing and sank down into HIS lap, sobbing that I would never doubt HIS authority again. HE said, “I know boy, but you’re going to have to be reminded of what it is to be a slave. You rejected your training, what you are. Now you need to be returned to being the slave you were born to be.”

HE took me to the bedroom, and carefully, almost gently, tied me down on the bed spread eagle, face up. I was blindfolded, and HE tied a rope to my balls and stretched them down toward the end of the bed, and tied it off. I heard HIM light a candle, and did not make a sound as HE slowly dripped hot wax all over my balls, the head of my dick, and the many welts and bruises covering my chest and stomach. Finally, HE blew out the candle, released me, turned me over, and tied me down again. Again HE used the candle, this time focusing on my welts and bruises. Then HE again blew out the candle, and set it aside.

I felt HIM climb between my legs. HE lowered HIMSELF down on to me gently, then savagely shoved HIS big Dick into my ravaged hole. HE fucked me hard, fast, and came twice before finally pulling HIS Cock out.

Then HE untied me, and told me to get cleaned up and make HIS breakfast. I washed myself off, went into the kitchen and made HIM scrambled eggs, toast and a cup of tea, just the way HE likes it. I brought in HIS breakfast, served it to HIM at the table, and then knelt beside HIM. HE took my face in HIS hands and again said, “You doubted me, boy.” Before I could reply, HE said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

I never have.